


Too Always In Doubt

by Amberly



Series: Just Like Heaven [2]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Relationship, Spiraling Thouhts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8338618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberly/pseuds/Amberly
Summary: Duo stood beneath the spray lost in thought. How many nights had he come home late to find dinner waiting? How many times had Wufei brought him tea on lunch break, the kind from the corner shop he loved so much, with just the right amount of cream and sugar? It felt constant. An endless barrage of tiny gestures that told Duo without words that his friend was there. That his friend had noticed his late night, or his early morning. That his friend had noticed another skipped lunch. Duo washed his hair and thought back, trying to find a time he’d taken care of Wufei. When he’d last brought him tea, or offered to cook. Done the dishes after dinner. He bit his lip. The instances were few and far between.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many Many thanks to Maeve for an excellent Beta, and to both her and Clara for being such wonderful cheerleaders while I write this month. Many thanks also to ChronicWhimsy on tumblr, for all of the enthusiasm and the lovely comments. You are appreciated!!
> 
> I'd originally intended to wait to post this but, well. I couldn't hold onto it anymore. It is still pre-slash, but you can definitely see the forming relationship. Or, well. Hopefully you can. I wanted to focus this piece mostly on showing how Duo's brain works, since his brainweird spirals are a big barrier to the relationship he does eventually have with Wufei. In short: having healthy, functional adult relationships is hard when you've never learned how.

Duo was exhausted, coming off a five-day mission with a 10-hour flight. A 4-hour layover. His mouth tasted like sandpaper, his hair limp and greasy, and the grit in his eyes wouldn’t go away no matter how many times he rubbed them. What he wanted was a bed. What he wanted was a shower, and a tall glass of water, and the large, clean expanse of his bed, beckoning him from miles—colonies away. Maybe food. A plate of Wufei’s cooking and a hot mug of tea. His roommate would be home. It wasn’t late, he was just tired. He could grab whatever leftovers there were in the fridge, cajole Wufei into making tea for him, and shower. And then sleep. Deep, dreamless sleep, surrender to an exhaustion so intense he felt it in the crooks of his teeth.

His cab pulled up to show the lights just coming on in the apartment. It meant that Wufei was just getting home, that he’d be tired and slumped. Late nights were going around. Duo grabbed his bag and paid, stepping out of the cab with a weary smile and a half-hearted wave, a flicker of disappointment running through his stomach. If Wufei was just getting home, there would be no food. No tea. His friend looked as worn out as he felt, and Duo clapped a hand over his shoulder as he met Wufei at the door, giving him a warm, sideways look.

“Hey, Fei. Didn’t expect to see you getting home this late.”          

“Yes,” Wufei agreed, mirroring his smile and shrugging, slipping the key into the lock. “There was a last minute trainee. Extra paperwork.” Grunting in response, Duo made a face. That sucked. It sucked that Wufei was getting home so late—that Wufei would be getting up again so early to go back. Duo swung his back down in the foyer and stretched, arching his back.

“Well,” he drawled. “I’m gonna grab a shower and crash. That layover was murder.”        

“You haven’t eaten.”

“I can eat tomorrow,” Duo waved the comment away, mustering a smile. Wufei’s eyes were calculating, moving over him in a way he’d long become familiar with. Checking for injuries, cataloguing bruises. They’d been roommates since Duo moved to Sanq—since he’d finally taken Une up on the offer of his own department—and he’d grown used to his friend’s quirks. Rolling his eyes, he gave Wufei a gentle nudge with his shoulder, accompanying him down the hall to the kitchen. “Honest, Fei. I just need a shower and sleep. I’m good tonight.”

“You’re skin and bones is what you are,” Wufei replied firmly, jaw set. “You shower. I’ll make dinner—and tea. I know how you like my tea.” The smile was barely there, a faint upturn of his lips, and Duo’s stomach somersaulted. He bit his lip, ducking his head and looking up at Wufei through his lashes, shoulders hunching in.

“Aww, Fei. I don’t wanna—“

“You will not finish that sentence. Shower, Maxwell. And then get your scrawny ass in here for dinner,” his lips quirked. “It won’t be fancy. Frozen pizza. But it will be more than nothing, and we could both do with something in our bellies before we collapse for the night.” Duo bit his lip, then shrugged. He knew better than to argue with Wufei—at least when he was giving him that look. The warm, dark eyed one he’d been seeing more often, paired with the set of his jaw. It was a “You’re not taking care of yourself” look. A “Dammit, Maxwell, you don’t have to starve” look. Slipping out of the kitchen, he headed to his bathroom. Somehow, it felt like Wufei was always taking care of him. No matter how tired he was. No matter how shitty his day had been. 

Duo stood beneath the spray lost in thought. How many nights had he come home late to find dinner waiting? How many times had Wufei brought him tea on lunch break, the kind from the corner shop he loved so much, with just the right amount of cream and sugar? It felt constant. An endless barrage of tiny gestures that told Duo without words that his friend was there. That his friend had noticed his late night, or his early morning. That his friend had noticed another skipped lunch. Duo washed his hair and thought back, trying to find a time he’d taken care of Wufei. When he’d last brought him tea, or offered to cook. Done the dishes after dinner. He bit his lip. The instances were few and far between.

Ashamed, he turned the shower off, climbing out of it with slumped shoulders. Duo asked so much of his friend. He didn’t hesitate to lean on the offered shoulder. Thought nothing of asking Wufei for help with his project, or venting to him after a long day of work. He listened. Even if Duo did nothing else for his friend, he listened. Suddenly, it didn’t seem like enough.  Pulling on a pair of boxer, Duo left his hair loose and damp down his back, padding back into the kitchen with his eyes glued to the floor, lower lip caught between his teeth. Wufei did so much for him, and he wasn’t even grateful. When Wufei had told him he’d make dinner, he had been. But then Wufei had said frozen pizza, and Duo felt—cheated, somehow. Yeah, it was food. But it wasn’t a home cooked meal. It wasn’t Wufei’s cooking. He was an awful friend.

“Stop brooding.” The sharp command came from the kitchen. The pizza was finished, and Duo could smell it now. Hot and perfect, all melted cheese and pepperoni. Wufei already had a slice, leaning back against the cabinet in a pair of drawstring pants. There was water clinging to his skin, still, his hair brushed back and damp, signs that he’d grabbed a quick shower as well. Duo forced his lips to curve, tried to push a sparkle into his tired eyes. A mug of steaming tea sat on the island, the jar of honey next to it. Duo sighed, shaking his head, expression tired as he looked into Wufei’s eyes.

“Sorry,” he shrugged. “I think the lack of sleep is getting to me.” Duo gave his friend a crooked grin, the expression growing as Wufei’s lips quirked. Taking the tea, Duo blew on it before taking a sip. Perfect. Of course it was perfect. Wufei knew exactly how  he took his tea.  Placing the mug back on the island, Duo took a slice of pizza, teeth sinking into it with a moan of bliss. Maybe it wasn’t a home cooked meal. It was only frozen pizza, but it was delicious, and Wufei had made it for him—specifically because he knew he was hungry. There were already two slices gone, the pan already washed and set to dry in the rack, and Duo cursed his long hair. Sooner. If he’d made it sooner, he could’ve done the dishes. He’d do them next time. No matter what.

“I take it the pizza meets with your approval.”    

“It’s so good,” Duo nodded, swallowing his first bite. “You were right, Fei. I definitely need this.”

“Yes. I know.”

There it was again. That dark-eyed look, warm and fathomless and sending a flush over his cheeks. Duo looked away, stuffing his mouth with pizza and moving on to a second slice. Wufei finished his last piece and washed his hands, drying them on the dishtowel. His own mug was already in the sink, and he put the honey away without comment, a look of satisfaction on his face. The silence was comfortable, familiar, and Duo finished the final slice of pizza with relish, slumping back against the counter and letting his eyes drift shut. Around him, he could hear Wufei moving. Placing his mug in the sink, wiping down the pizza stone. Duo listened to it with a smile on his face, body growing lax.

“Oh no you don’t, Maxwell,” Wufei’s voice was low and amused, his breath hot against his ear. “You are not sleeping in the kitchen. Come on, you oaf. You’re too heavy to carry.”

“’m not heavy,” Duo slurred, leaning heavily into the arm around his waist. He rubbed his cheek on Wufei’s shoulder, half-conscious, heat spreading through him at the chuckle the gesture earned.

“Not usually. But then, I’m tired too. Come on.” Wufei all but carried him down the hall, solid and close and soft under the callouses on Duo’s fingers. He was dumped unceremoniously onto the bed, the blankets pulled back with a grunt. Duo wasn’t helping, and he knew it. He couldn’t do anything but lie there, lips curved in a blissful smile, full and safe and on the edge of consciousness. With a sigh, Wufei tucked him in, brushing back his bangs.

“You are impossible. Goodnight, Duo.”

“’Night, Fei,” Duo hummed, turning onto his side, curling around his pillow. The only response was the snick of his door, silence settling around him as he finally let go, drifting into sleep.

* * *

 

Over the next week, Duo thought about it nonstop. It was there as soon as he woke up, carefully tucked in by Wufei’s steady hands. There as he read the note on the fridge door, letting him know that Wufei had already stocked up in anticipation of Duo’s homecoming, stuffed full of everything he could want for his three days of downtime. It was overwhelming and sweet and perfectly Wufei, and Duo shuffled around their apartment deep in thought, barely hearing a word his roommate said to him. How was it possible that Wufei could be so good? It wasn’t that Wufei never had a bad day. It was that any bad day seemed to be immediately tabled in favor of taking care of Duo. It was that, no matter how frustrated Wufei seemed at the office, no matter how slumped he was when he came in the door, he asked after Duo’s day, cooked dinner, and made a pot of tea.

And Duo had never done a single thing in return.

It was maddening. How did Wufei put up with him? Why were they still friends? Duo went through the same routine every day. Wake up, eat, go back to bed. Sleep, or obsess over how perfect his roommate. Despair over how unperfect he was himself. Haul himself out of bed to eat, shower, and fall right back in, finally leaving it for dinner with Wufei. Every night he sat in his seat at the table and smiled, nodded, tried to listen to whatever story Wufei was. Making sympathetic noises here, frowning when appropriate. It was wooden and routine, and Duo hated himself for it. Here was a man who did everything for him—who was there to support him every single day, regardless of what was happening in his own life—and Duo couldn’t even listen to him vent about work.

If Wufei noticed his distance he said nothing. They went about their day the way they always had, only Duo was wrong, somehow. He was disconnected from it in a way he hadn’t been before. And the more he obsessed, the more he hated himself, the more he slipped away. He stopped responding at dinner, barely ate, and spent as much time at the office instead. Wufei deserved better friends, even if he didn’t realize it. He deserved better than someone as selfish as Duo. The thought ate at him, hounded his sleep, and by the end of the week he was cranky and exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes just as pronounced as they’d been when he’d come home. He was out of sorts and oversensitive, snapping at his coworkers, until finally Zechs sent him home.

“I don’t know what died in your ass,” he stated, pointing at the door, “but you need to handle it.  Go home, Duo. Now. You’re useless to your team like this.” Duo glared at him, slamming his desk drawers shut and muttering about mutiny. But he went, loudly, cursing Zechs’ dubious lineage all the way to the parking garage. Once there, he threw open his car door, tossed his laptop bag in the backseat, then slammed the door behind him. He was furious, suddenly. Exhausted and hungry and angry—mostly with himself. Duo drove home with the radio on high, screaming along to the lyrics of whatever played, and pulled into his parking space exhausted and spent, fury long gone, bled out by the ride home.

Wufei’s car was already there, next to his in the parking garage. Duo felt a flicker of panic, of self-disgust, then sighed. Sooner or later, Duo knew, he was going to have to deal with what was happening. Now, he thought, was not the time. He slung his bag over his shoulder and ran his hand through his bangs, brushing them back as he trudged up the walk. Usually, he’d talk to Wufei. He’d sit down and open a beer and unloose with what a shit day he’d had. But now…Duo couldn’t do it. Wufei shouldered Duo’s burden as well as his own and Duo couldn’t add to it. He shut the door behind himself and slumped against it, looking out at the living room. Wufei was there, on the couch, with a book on his lap. He was reading, shoulders tensed, body coiled tightly. Duo’s brow furrowed. Wufei had no reason to be home this early—and Duo couldn’t remember if he’d left for work that morning.

It was unlike Wufei to miss work. Duo bit his lip, setting his bag down on the small side table. He shrugged off his jacket, hanging it with care. Each action was an attempt at delay. A way for Duo to quiet his racing thoughts. His friend had yet to greet him. It appeared that Wufei was reading, but Duo knew otherwise. He was too still. There was no expression on his face, and he hadn't turned a page since Duo's walked in. Something was wrong. It had Duo tensing, his body alert and ready for the fight it assumed was coming. Making his way into the kitchen, he took a deep breath, then let it out. Slowly, Duo counted to ten. He’d had a shit day—beyond a shit day—and he didn’t want to talk to anyone. He didn’t want to take care of Wufei. If Wufei had a problem, then Wufei needed to say something. It wasn’t Duo’s job to take care of him.    

Duo went cold. His best friend was sitting in the living room, and instead of thinking about how he could help him, he was coming up with excuses to allow him to ignore it. He was justifying his behavior. Duo ran his hands over his face and slumped. What would Wufei do? Wufei—would put aside what was bothering him. He would find a way to help cheer Duo up. Sighing, he pushed away from the counter, heading for the fridge. Tea. Wufei would need tea and—soup? His skills in the kitchen weren’t as limited as they had been, but he still struggled. And if Wufei were sick, that’s what he would want. Duo set the water to boil and dumped a can of cream of mushroom into the saucepan. Maybe sandwiches? They had bread, and cheese. Duo shook his head. Too much. Instead he focused on the soup. On making the tea, adding just the right amount of honey. Duo made a small tray, looking it over with a frown. It wasn’t enough. It could never be enough. But maybe it was a start.

“Hey,” he greeted Wufei, carefully setting the tray on the coffee table.

“Hello,” Wufei responded, finally sitting down his book. He looked at the tea and soup in silence, then looked up at him. “Did you make this for me?”

“Yeah,” Duo said, smiling a little, the expression strained. “You seemed…like maybe you had a rough day.”

“I did.”

“I’m sorry.”

There was silence. Wufei’s expression was inscrutable, running over Duo, and then the tray on the table. After several minutes, he reached for the tea, taking a sip, his eyes widening. He quickly set the tea back on the tray, looking at Duo in astonishment. Duo bit his lip nervously. Suddenly everything seemed much too intimate. Making tea, and soup. Taking care of Wufei. It wasn’t something just friends did—even if it was what Wufei did for him all the time. Panic rose and peaked and then fell away, dashed to pieces by the slow, pleased smile on Wufei’s face.

“Duo,” he shook his head. “Thank you. It tastes exactly how it should. You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Wufei chuckled. “Just the right amount of honey.”

“There’s—there’s soup too.”     

“Yes. Mushroom.”

“Yeah? It’s—oh,” Duo’s face fell. He bit his lip, shoulders slumping. Wufei didn’t like mushrooms. And somehow, he’d managed to forget. Completely disregard. “Shit, Fei. I’m sorry.”

“Duo, it doesn’t matter.”

“It does!” he thundered, throwing his hands up. “It does. You’re—you’re like the perfect friend! You always take care of me, no matter how shit your day is, and I can’t even remember that you don’t like mushrooms. God. What the hell is wrong with me? I didn’t even—I didn’t even want to do it! I just didn’t want to be a shitty friend, and I’m so—God, Wufei. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not a better friend.” Wufei’s eyes widened as he spoke, staring at Duo with his teacup in his hands. Calmly, he set it down, running a hand through his loose black hair.

“Duo—It is enough that you wanted to do something for me,” he spoke softly, sincerely. There were a few more moments of silence. “Is this what’s been bothering you?” Glumly, Duo nodded. He swallowed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking out the window.

“I just…you’re always there for me, you know? You always make dinner, and tea, and you’re always letting me bitch, even when I know you’d rather be meditating, or reading, and you never seem to mind! You’re always happy to do it!” And I never make time for you. I don’t _do_ anything for you. You know,” Duo let out a humorless chuckle. “I even resented you, just a little. You were always so—you’re such a good friend, and I’m such a bad friend.” He sighed. Next to him, Wufei looked furious, glaring at him. It had been a while since the expression had been directed at Duo. There was righteous anger there, and Duo deserved it. He deserved every single bit of scorn, and he bowed his head, waiting for it silently.

“You are an idiot, Maxwell,” Wufei growled. “Yes, I am there for you. Do I always want to? No. Some days I want to ignore you, or tell you to make your own dinner. But I do it, because I care about you, and because if I am going to eat anyway, why shouldn’t I share?” Wufei inhaled, nostrils flaring. “You are—that you would even—dare—to think that you are a bad friend.” He exhaled sharply, glaring fiercely across the couch at him. “No, you do not cook for me. You do not make me tea. But you reshelf my books, when I’ve left them on the table. You make sure we don’t run out of my tea, or my favorite brand of cereal. You make sure I go to bed on time, you fold my laundry, you drag me out of the house when I’ve gone too long without seeing our friends. You take care of me, too, you great imbecile. Even if you do it differently.” He stood, collecting the tray, looking intently down at him. “And yes, sometimes I resent you-for being such a better friend than me. Does that surprise you? I am only human, Duo. The same as you. Neither of us is perfect.”

Duo sat stock still on the couch, staring at Wufei with his mouth open. There was no way he could respond. Part of him had known. Part of him had realized that his grand idea with selfless Wufei on oneside and himself, selfish, on the other, was silly. But it had been so hard to see through it. To let the thoughts cycle over and over. He still felt like he wasn’t doing enough. That he could never measure up, even with Wufei standing in front of him, telling him it wasn’t true. His friend stopped at the door, body stiff, looking over his shoulder at him with his jaw set.

“You made me soup and tea. That is not the action of a bad friend, my feelings about mushrooms aside,” Wufei said, soft and slow. “The thought counts, Duo. Even if part of you was resentful, even if part of you was exhausted and didn’t want to do it, you still did. You’re trying. And that matters to me.” And then he was gone, ducked into the kitchen, and Duo was left alone with his thoughts. It was several minutes before Wufei was back, sitting on the couch, looking solemnly across at him. Duo sighed, wrapping his braid between his fingers as he cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Fei,” he said, quiet and sincere.

“I’m sorry too,” Wufei replied. “Yelling was not the best way to handle that.”

“No,” Duo laughed, shaking his head, “sometimes I need the yelling. And you—weren’t wrong. I think I got so hung up on not—not doing what you were doing that I couldn’t see anything else.”           

“Thoughts are just thoughts, Duo. Thinking them doesn’t make them facts.”

“That sounds like something ‘Ro had to stitch on a pillow in therapy.”

“He’ll have to show it to you sometime,” Wufei grinned, before shaking his head. “Talk to me next time, Duo. Don’t just let yourself get stuck inside your head.”

“I’ll try,” he sighed. “Really, I will. I just…you’re a really great friend, Wufei.”

“Thank you, Duo.” There was a pause. “You are too, you know.”

“Thanks, Wu.”


End file.
